


Trevor and the Shady Lady

by dizmo



Category: All Hail the King (Marvel Short Film), Flight Rising
Genre: Captivity, Community: intoabar, Dank and Ominous Basements, Escape, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizmo/pseuds/dizmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An actor walks into a bar...</p>
<p>No, wait. An actor is held captive somewhere beneath a bar. It does not end well for the bar, but this is definitely no fault of the actor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trevor and the Shady Lady

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fall 2014 round of [intoabar](http://intoabar.dreamwidth.org/)! Yay for strange randomized crossover scenarios!

It was a bar. Really. Anyone in the neighborhood would tell you so. Maybe it wasn't the _best_ bar, sure. Maybe it was small and dingy and hardly anyone ever went there and if they did the bartenders were really not the friendliest, but it was definitely a bar.

It was absolutely not a front for a Ten Rings cell. Where on earth would you get that idea?

… Okay, maybe it was.

So, given that it was in fact a front for a Ten Rings cell, one would assume it would have some sort of hidden room or basement that was dank and ominous and used for nefarious purposes.

In fact, it _was_ a basement, and perhaps one of the most dank and ominous nefarious basements that could be found for miles and miles and miles. Its only real competition on the continent was one under Hydra's jurisdiction, but really, that was to be expected.

Within this dank and ominous basement, having spent some time there being subjected to some nefarious purposes, was an actor. Granted, actors were not normally the type of people one would expect to be in a dank and ominous basement, unless that basement were, for instance, a movie set. This, unfortunately, was not a movie set, and the actor in question was not filming a movie.

So, why was the actor in this basement? Well, the actor's name was Trevor Slattery. And, unfortunately for him, he had taken an acting job which did not work out too well for him in the long run. In fact, it had gotten him into a dank and ominous basement. And dank and ominous basements were about as known for their amenities as the Ten Rings were known for their hospitality. Who knew that impersonating their leader would actually make the guy angry? Well, someone probably did, but he was definitely not that someone.

Trevor Slattery had never really been a _method_ actor, as he liked his creature comforts a tad bit too much. To be honest, even if he had been inclined to dip his toes in those particular waters, it wouldn't have been for the role of a jailbroken, kidnapped actor going through heavy drug withdrawal in a dank and ominous basement. Really, _really_ not his style.

It was awful. And wheedling his guards for more drugs wasn't really helping. Just more body blows and questions screamed in his face. (Of course, since he got those anyway, it wasn't as if it changed much… So he didn't actually stop the wheedling.)

So while he was sitting in the corner, having just finished a round of wheedling and gotten a good kick for his troubles, an almost panicked voice came across the radio of the Ten Rings operative who was guarding him at the moment. The guard replied and then after a brief conversation with whoever was on the other end of the radio, ran up the very solid stone staircase, leaving Trevor otherwise unguarded but still locking the door behind him.

Trevor stood up cautiously. Was there perhaps a rescue effort underway? And more importantly, would he at least be able to get a beer out of it?

He hadn't been standing for long when the ground and building around him (yes, even in the dank and ominous basement) shuddered as if something _unspeakably_ large had landed nearby. It was definitely not an earthquake, but it had the unfortunate, and similar, result of sending Trevor toppling right back down to the ground.

"Hello?" he asked cautiously as he pulled himself back to his feet. There was no reaction, but there were faint muffled shouts coming from somewhere above him.

Rescue attempt was looking likely! Trevor pulled himself carefully back up to his feet, managing to keep his balance this time as more deep thuds and shuddering occurred. Whoever was rescuing him had apparently brought the _big_ guns.

And then, a horrific crash had him scrabbling underneath a sturdy steel table that was used as a storage place for a lot of generally unpleasant implements (although a number of them had fallen and rolled away in the commotion). It was just in time, too, as concrete and wood started to fall all around him, some rather significant pieces bouncing off the table, as the ceiling of the dank and ominous basement fell inwards while the bar above it was completely obliterated.

Once most of the debris had settled, Trevor peeked his head out cautiously. "Er, hello? Excellent rescue attempt, loves, but it might have been just a _tiny_ bit of overkill?"

Of course, whatever rescue crew he had been expecting was definitely not there. Instead was an enormous dragon. She was the color of shadow itself with huge black wings stretching across an almost obscene wingspan. Her eyes gave off an eerie purple glow and she was drooling some sort of viscous black liquid as she continued laying waste to the neighborhood.

However, she was not really paying attention to _him_ because he was not one of the people that was ineffectually attempting to _shoot_ her, so she might as _well_ have been a rescue crew.

While her attention was diverted (along with that of anyone who may have actually remained of his captors), he carefully extricated himself from underneath the table, made his way around the impressive amount of rubble, and very cautiously crept up the staircase which was thankfully still standing.

And with no actual building in his way to contend with, he took off running in the exact opposite direction of the dragon. "Cheers, love!" he called out as he ran. There was really no way she could have heard him, so there was also really no way he could have looked halfway in his direction and snorted in a way that almost seemed amused. But it at least could have been _interpreted_ that way, so he decided that that was the way he could bloody well interpret it.

Besides, it would make for a great story. Well, once he found a bar that was actually still standing. 

A story like that could definitely net some free drinks.


End file.
